


Ballad of Youth

by Thanfiction



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Brotherhood, Gen, Human Castiel, M/M, Screenplay/Script Format, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:36:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thanfiction/pseuds/Thanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Screenplay spec script.   The teenage Winchester brothers and young Casey Lee of Lawrence, Kansas, are about to discover that monsters are real and they themselves are more than they ever knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ballad of Youth

SUPER TITLE: LAWRENCE, KANSAS, 1997

INT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (DAY 1)

The house is dark, deserted, but there hasn’t been time for  
dust or cobwebs yet.  It belonged to the local strip mall  
fortune teller, and there are enough drapes and fringe and  
beads and faux ethnic crap to choke a 900 number.  Six  
teenagers enter, the boys ostentatiously going first.  The  
clear leaders are SCOTT HARPER (18, quarterback, local God,  
and almost half as hot as he thinks it is) and TRACI SUMMERS  
(16, second runner up Miss Teen Kansas last fall),  
accompanied by Scott’s loyal linebackers and henchmen MATT  
BRANCH and RYAN TAYLOR with their official midwestern-issue  
cheerleader girlfriends AMANDA TUCKER and NICOLE KLEIN.   
Bruce Springsteen would weep at the sheer Americana of these  
kids. 

TRACI  
Maybe this wasn't a good idea.   
What if someone calls the cops?

SCOTT  
We're not doing anything wrong.   
She's been dead like three days,  
the door was basically open...we'll  
just say we like, left something  
when we were getting our palms  
read. 

MATT  
Or that Kurt Cobain wasn't  
answering his Ouija board for  
Trace...

TRACI  
Shut up.

Nicole bumps into something and stifles a scream.  Scott  
shines his flashlight to find some kind of  
taxidermy…monkey-rat-fish thing holding a crystal ball.  He  
mimics its hideous expression and laughs. 

SCOTT  
Ok, yeah, this is cool. Crazy old  
bitch.

He tries a table lamp, and when it turns on, the tension  
eases palpably.  They start to fan out, poking around  
shelves and tables of knick-knacks and sundry mysteries like  
the Scooby Gang.

AMANDA  
Is that...?

She shines her light on a jar, recoiling from something  
pickled and fetal.

AMANDA  
Oh my God, EW!

A loud, sudden rattle makes everyone jump, but it’s just  
Scott playing with a set of knucklebone runestones and a bad  
Marlon Brando impression.

SCOTT  
Luck be a Lady, seven come eleven,  
oh yeah!

TRACI  
You're such a dick!

But the tension is well and truly broken, and they’re all  
starting to really have fun, rifling the room freely now.  
Ryan finds an animal skull, using it as a hand puppet.

RYAN  
Me Tarzan, you not lookin' so  
good...

Nicole has a a big, leatherbound spellbook on a stand.

NICOLE  
Klaatu, barada, nikto!

The late Madam’s velvet robes and turban are on a chair, and  
Traci dons them with an elaborate flourish.

TRACI  
I am zee night and zee dahkness...

SCOTT  
Hey! Check this out!

He has found an elaborately carved wooden box, hidden at the  
very back of a cabinet.  It won’t open.

SCOTT  
Matt, you got your knife?

Scott takes Matt’s pocketknife and slips the blade under the  
lid.  The lights flicker.  There is a sudden gust of wind  
from nowhere, the temperature dropping. We can see their  
breath.  Something growls.  The fun is over, but for the  
boys, it’s been replaced by stupid bravado; they won’t admit  
they’re scared.

SCOTT  
Awesome! Jumanji...

NICOLE  
Not Jumanji.  Put it down.

TRACI  
She's right.  Let's go.  NOW. It's  
Madam Manzano, her spirit is angry!

SCOTT  
You've seen Hell Hazers too many  
times.

The growling is getting louder.

SCOTT  
I almost got it...OW!

He yanks his hand back, but it’s not a slice from the knife,  
there are distinct tiny bleeding bite marks on his finger.

AMANDA  
We're gonna die.

TRACI  
No, we're gonna LEAVE. SCOTT!

MATT  
Mommy says it's time to go home!

Something clicks in the box.  The growling stops. Silence. 

SCOTT  
There.  See?  No prob --

All the lights go out.  Despite the window, it’s a pitch  
black screen.  A moment of breathing only in otherwise utter  
silence, then everything erupts into a sound like cranking  
the volume on hell; animalistic roars, growls, and shrieks,  
things smashing - and squishing and splattering - punctuated  
by the desperate screams of the teenagers, then other, more  
truncated noises.  Then silence again.

The lights flicker back on.  It’s the same room, but it’s a  
complete disaster; furniture thrown back against the walls,  
everything blasted away from Traci, who stands in the middle  
of the room over the bloody, mutilated dead bodies of Scott,  
Amanda, and Nicole.  A pattern of veining extends from her  
eyes and mouth as she wipes the blood dripping from her lips  
on Scott’s torn letterman jacket.  She is no longer Traci,  
she is the DIBBUK.  Matt and Ryan stand at vacant attention  
by the door, their eyes the distinct glossy black of demonic  
possession.  The Dibbuk surveys its handiwork and smiles,  
settling into its new vessel luxuriantly.

DIBBUK  
Mmm...that's nice.

It stops as if scenting the air or hearing something beyond  
human range.  It senses a presence that worries it at first,  
then makes it very, very happy, a kind of giddiness almost  
appropriate to the schoolgirl it has taken.

DIBBUK  
Oh, and they don't even...! This is  
too, too good...start cleaning up,  
boys! We can't have spleen on the  
lamps when we're expecting guests!

BLACKOUT

END OF TEASER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ACT ONE

INT. HALLWAY OF HIGH SCHOOL - DAY (DAY 2)

DEAN WINCHESTER (18, with a chip on his shoulder visible  
from the space shuttle) is putting his books back in his  
locker.  He gets out his bag and a leather jacket that May  
doesn't need, putting them on like armor, slamming the  
locker and setting off quickly down the hall against the  
flow of STUDENTS.  His girlfriend JENNIFER WHEELER spots him  
and gives chase. She's 16 and trying to paint on rebellion  
with eyeliner.

JENNIFER  
Where're we going?

DEAN  
We?

JENNIFER  
I know you're ditching English, but  
I ditch, you ditch, we ditch...

DEAN  
I've got stuff.

JENNIFER  
You've got that Tamagotchi.

This hits a nerve, and is clearly not about the toy. 

DEAN  
Look, I --

JENNIFER  
Jesus! I seriously need a badder  
bad boy.

Dean stops, forcing himself to turn on the charm.  He's in a  
hurry, but he actually doesn't want to wreck this and  
realizes he's getting close. 

DEAN  
Saturday.  Sammy's got a birthday  
party, and I don't have work until  
7.

JENNIFER  
Hmm...don't you have a PTA meeting  
or need to wax the minivan or  
something? 

DEAN  
Be there at three, sweetheart, and  
I'll make you clutch your pearls. 

JENNIFER  
Will you now?

DEAN  
Promise. 

JENNIFER  
You are so lucky I'm a sucker for  
green eyes.

She pinches his ass, sending him on his way with a wink.

JENNIFER  
Get outta here before Mrs. Zweiker  
catches you again.

He doesn't need to be told twice. 

EXT. SCHOOL - DAY - CONTINUOUS

Dean jogs over to a 15 year old economy car, well taken care  
of but battered with age and not enough repair money and so  
not Baby, tossing his bag in the passenger seat and sliding  
in after...

INT. CAR - DAY - CONTINUOUS

...as if he can impart cool to the car by sheer force of  
will. He puts on his sunglasses, turns on the radio.  THIRD  
EYE BLIND'S "GRADUATE" begins to play and continues over...

EXT. SCHOOL - DAY - CONTINUOUS

...the car peeling out of the parking lot, on his way to...

INT. GROCERY STORE - DAY

Dean is shopping quickly, efficiently, but there's a broad  
disparity in what goes in the basket.  Fruit, vegetables,  
milk, pasta, healthy kid's cereal with the label checked  
meticulously...and a few handfuls of ramen and on-sale  
freezer burritos.  He gets an extra chicken breast for  
flirting with the GIRL at the butcher counter, then pays for  
it all with a fistful of crumpled small bills from his back  
pocket. 

INT. LAUNDROMAT - DAY

A younger boy's clothes are carefully sorted, pockets  
checked, detergent measured into three washers.  Whites,  
colors, darks.  All of Dean's clothes are wadded  
unceremoniously into a fourth with a shake of soap.  He has  
to sit on it to make it close. 

INT. LIBRARY - ENTRANCE - DAY

Dean returns a stack of books...

INT. LIBRARY - FRONT DESK - DAY - MINUTES LATER

...and tries to check out another stack.  But the LIBRARIAN  
\- a cute and slightly flamboyant late-20's guy - turns him  
down, pointing out a fine.  Dean checks his pockets, looks  
hard at the books, takes a deep breath, hesitates, then  
looks up again, his smile smouldering...

INT. LIBRARY - BACK ROOM - MOMENTS LATER

...and kisses the Dewey Decimals out of the Librarian up  
against an old card catalogue...

INT. LIBRARY - FRONT DESK - DAY - MINUTES LATER

...Dean's fine is stamped PAID and he leaves the flushed  
Librarian without a second look, heading back to...

INT. CAR - DAY - CONTINUOUS

...where he washes his mouth out with the remains of a flat  
McDonalds soda from the cupholder, spitting it out the  
window and tossing the cup as he leaves the library  
towards...

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY - MINUTES LATER

A run-down development full of single parents, alcoholism,  
and blue-collar despair. Dean juggles laundry, groceries,  
and is attempting keys but stops as the music ends and he  
sees a SOCIAL WORKER waiting for him and holding a folder.   
Mid 40's-50's, she lost her capacity for teen bullcrap about  
twenty years ago.

DEAN  
Mrs. Parks! Grab my keys, will you?  
Hands kinda full.

She takes the keys from his belt and unlocks the door,  
motioning him past and following him into...

INT. DEAN AND SAM'S APARTMENT - DAY - CONTINUOUS

It's a tiny, shabby one-bedroom but meticulously,  
surprisingly clean.  The furnishings are Goodwill's greatest  
hits, the desperately earnest attempt of a still fairly  
clueless teenage boy to make a Good Home out of less than  
nothing.  He starts putting groceries away and gestures for  
her to sit.  She doesn't.

MRS. PARKS  
The school called, Dean. You  
skipped class.  Again.

DEAN  
My grades are fine!

MRS. PARKS  
C minus average is --

DEAN  
Average, right?  So...?  I had  
stuff I had to do.  Look, I got a  
broccoli.  And bananas! 

She is not amused.  He drops the attitude so fast it's  
jarring, and he might as well have aged fifteen years. 

DEAN  
I got offered a double shift  
tonight. Matt's mom called him  
out.  It's Friday; that's good  
tips, it just meant leaving a  
little early to get dinner on the  
table.  It's no.  Big.  Deal.

MRS. PARKS  
It's a pattern.  You were granted  
provisional custody, but this isn't  
just about Sam's well-being.  You  
matter too.

DEAN  
I'm eighteen. And you are all kinds  
of not my mother.

MRS. PARKS  
There's a family out by Baldwin  
City that's willing to take Sam --

DEAN  
I won't --!

MRS. PARKS  
\-- and they have a ranch hand  
position they're willing to offer  
you.  Room and board, modest wages,  
and you could stay with your  
brother.

DEAN  
Nice way of saying I still lose  
custody.  How about no.

MRS. PARKS  
If I get any more of these phone  
calls, it won't be negotiable.

DEAN  
Then you won't, ok. 

He slams the cupboard on the last of the groceries, takes a  
moment to catch his temper, checks his watch with a deep  
breath.  

DEAN  
Please just go.

MRS. PARKS  
Dean....

  DEAN  
Sam's gonna be home any minute. If  
he sees you here, he'll think  
something's happened.  Please.   
I'll come by your office  
Monday...after school.  Okay?

A long beat, but she decides to let it go.  She knows he'll  
show. 

MRS. PARKS  
Monday. 4pm.  I'll be waiting.

She lets herself out.  Dean doesn't move until she's gone,  
then the control snaps on his temper.  He smashes his  
forearms against the wall, clearly practiced at not putting  
holes in it. 

DEAN  
Motherf--

The phone rings. His look could melt it.  It rings again.   
And again.  He answers. 

DEAN  
Winchesters. 

JOHN WINCHESTER (V.O.)  
Dean? Is Sammy there?

This is quite possibly the last person Dean wanted to hear  
from, and it shows on his face, but his voice is so  
controlled as to seem dead. 

DEAN  
Nah. Bus should be coming soon,  
though. 

JOHN WINCHESTER (V.O.)  
I wanted to talk to him about  
tomorrow.

Dean winces.  Crap.  He forgot. 

DEAN  
About that, Dad....

JOHN WINCHESTER (V.O.)  
Don't play games with me, young  
man. Part of the deal was that you  
would bring him for visiting hours,  
and I raised you to keep your word.

DEAN  
Carl's having a birthday party,  
though...a paintball thing.  He's  
\--

JOHN WINCHESTER (V.O.)  
I get to see my son once a month  
and....

Dean puts the phone down on the counter, pressing his hands  
against his temples, gathering himself as we vaguely hear  
the muffled sound of John still lecturing him.  He glances  
out the window.  The school bus is just pulling up.  He  
picks up the phone again.

DEAN  
Dad? The bus is --

He freezes, horrorstruck.  We follow his look out the window  
to...

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY - CONTINUOUS

...the bus stop.  Matt and Ryan had their truck parked right  
behind the bus, and they lunge out, grabbing SAM WINCHESTER  
(14, halfway between scrawny and lanky and right in the  
middle of awkward, with a backpack half as big as he is) and  
pulling him inside. 

INT. DEAN AND SAM'S APARTMENT - DAY - CONTINUOUS

The phone drops, dangling...

EXT. APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY - CONTINUOUS

...as Dean sprints after the truck. 

DEAN  
SAMMY!  SAMMY!

But there's no way he can catch it, and he gives up after  
half a block as it pulls impossibly ahead.  He stands there  
for a moment, eyes blazing, then turns back with a disarming  
grin to the handful of STUDENTS and PARENTS staring in  
shock.

DEAN  
Sorry...I...uh...couple guys from  
the football team pulling a prank,  
you know?  Got me pretty good.   
Nothing to worry about.  Sorry.  
I'll just...uh...yeah...

INT. DEAN AND SAM'S APARTMENT - DAY - MOMENTS LATER

All trace of the casual self-effacement is gone in pure fury  
and resolve as he shuts the door hard behind him, ignoring  
the buzzing dial tone of the still-hanging phone.  He is  
muttering under his breath, a single phrase, over and over.

DEAN  
Matt Branch. Ryan Taylor. Blue  
Dodge Ram. DGL 754. Matt Branch.  
Ryan Taylor. Blue Dodge Ram. DGL...

He unzips his bag from school, pulling out a pizza delivery  
uniform.  He switches shirts, pulls on the cap, then reaches  
under the couch and retrieves a small case, opening it to  
reveal a familiar customized chrome Colt M1911.  He checks  
and loads it expertly, chambering the first round before  
tucking it into his waistband and heading for the door.

EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET - JUST AFTER DARK

Dean's car is slowly driving down the road, a lit pizza sign  
added to the roof. 

INT. CAR - CONTINUOUS

He is checking every driveway, every vehicle.  If need be,  
he'll check every driveway in the state of Kansas and keep  
going from there...but after passing two or three, he  
stops.  There, parked streetside in front of a house with no  
visible lights on, is the truck that took Sam.

DEAN  
Bingo. Time to pick on somebody  
your own size. 

Dean parks the car across the street, grabs his pizza bag,  
pulls the brim of his cap down...

EXT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - PORCH - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS

...he's not as polished as the hunter we know, but he's half  
decent as a sneaky teen.  Dean carefully eases up the  
stairs, staying low, then flattens himself into the shadows  
against the wall and edges up to the only window with a  
faint glow of light.  He carefully peers inside...

INT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The broken furniture and random decorative things have been  
cleared away, leaving the room oddly bare except for a  
couch, a single chair, and a lot of stains.  Occult symbols  
are drawn on all the walls and around each door and window;  
some in char, some in blood.  The Dibbuk is reclined on the  
couch, casually directing the Matt and Ryan demons, who  
appear to be butchering Scott's corpse on a tarp.  Sam is  
tied to the chair and gagged with duct tape, his back to the  
window, but though clearly several exponential orders beyond  
scared, he doesn't seem harmed. 

EXT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - PORCH - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS

Slowly, Dean slides down the wall, eyes closed tightly as if  
he could unsee it all.  We can see his entire world hacked  
to pieces with every disgusting slicing sound from inside.   
Monsters are real.  They have his little brother. And he has  
never been so alone.  

  END OF ACT ONE

 

ACT TWO

EXT. SCHOOL - FOOTBALL FIELD - DAWN (DAY 3)

CASEY LEE is finishing his workout in Army sweats and a  
Philippians 4:13 tshirt.  18 and wholesome as white bread,  
you could bounce a quarter off his abs and make a diamond by  
shoving a lump of coal up his ass.  As he jogs towards his  
bag on the bleachers, we see Dean is waiting there, holding  
a steaming cup of coffee.  He looks like hell.  He's still  
in his pizza uniform. 

DEAN  
Good morning.

CASEY  
I don't...?

Dean offers a handshake, which Casey warily accepts. 

DEAN  
I'm Dean.  Winchester. 

CASEY  
Hello, Dean.  Casey Lee. 

A very awkward beat.  Casey reaches past and gets a towel  
and water bottle from his bag.  Dean holds out the coffee.

DEAN  
I brought you coffee.  Figured it's  
you're-kidding-me in the morning,  
so....

CASEY  
I don't drink coffee.

DEAN  
Of course you don't. 

Another awkward beat.  Dean drinks the coffee.  Casey is  
staring at him intently, trying to make sense of it as he  
stretches out. 

CASEY  
I know you from somewhere.  Do you  
go to Christ Covenant?

DEAN  
(laughs)  
Yeah...that's a NO. 

CASEY  
Canterbury House Fellowship?

DEAN  
I'm not what you'd call the  
religious type.  Or military.  I  
mean, I go here, but we're not in  
the same...aw, crap...

He stops, takes another drink of coffee.  Tries again. 

DEAN  
There's no way to say this that  
isn't going to --

CASEY  
Flattered, but no.

It takes a moment, then clicks. 

DEAN  
NO! Not like...no, ok.  No.  (takes  
a deep breath, gathers  
himself)Look, my brother was  
kidnapped yesterday--

Casey nearly falls off the bleacher mid-stretch. 

CASEY  
Have you called the police?! 

DEAN  
I can't! They'll take him!

CASEY  
You just said someone already has,  
dude!

DEAN  
It's complicated.

CASEY  
(starting to get angry)  
Is this a joke?!

DEAN  
I don't know either!  I've been up  
all night trying to think of  
ANYTHING and I just kept thinking  
of you and it's the gun range, all  
right?  That's where we've seen  
each other, and I know you're a  
dead shot with a .45, so I don't  
care if you're Mr. What Would Jesus  
Shoot, you're all I've got and I  
feel like something's making me do  
it even though oh yeah, I can hear  
the crazy as it's coming out of my  
face.

A long, long beat, the two boys just staring at each other,  
inches apart, then Casey turns, slinging the towel over his  
shoulder as he puts things back in his bag and zips it up.

CASEY  
I'm going to go shower.

DEAN  
That's IT? My brother...I...and  
you're gonna take a SHOWER?!

CASEY  
I have JROTC.  I'll be done in  
three hours.  That'll give you time  
to sober up or come down or  
whatever and not be here when I get  
back, and then I'll do you a favor  
and pretend none of this happened. 

Casey starts to leave.  Dean yells after him.

DEAN  
And if I'm still here?

CASEY  
I'll be praying for you!

Dean watches Casey walk away, then flings the coffee as hard  
as he can off the back of the bleachers. 

DEAN  
Great! He'll be praying for me!

INT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY - LATER

Sam is still tied to the chair but no longer gagged.  He's  
exhausted and still terrified but he's made up his mind to  
survive.  The Dibbuk has a large, ornate dagger and is  
peeling strips from Scott's severed arm and snacking while  
looking through an old copy of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.  

SAM  
You know, he loved bacon. 

The Dibbuk stops and spits out the strip of flesh, looking  
up at Sam in equal parts baffled fascination and disgust.

DIBBUK  
What did you say?! How would you  
even kno --

SAM  
This is Kansas. He's a dude.  And a  
football player.  It's practically  
a food group. 

Sam's bravado cracks a little as the Dibbuk approaches, and  
he winces, biting his lip to keep from crying out as it uses  
the dagger to slash the back of his hand in reproach. 

DIBBUK  
Don't. Mock. Me. Infant.  How did  
you know what I am?

SAM  
I...I don't...not...exactly.   
There's just... (indicates the  
symbols with his head)There's a lot  
of Hebrew stuff there, and...

The Dibbuk laughs, delighted. 

DIBBUK  
Clever, clever boy! You're right.   
That's Hebrew.  I take it you're  
not Jewish.

It drives the daggar down hard between Sam's legs, skimming  
the fabric of his jeans at his groin as close as is humanly  
possible and embedding itself in the chair. 

DIBBUK  
We could fix that...

SAM  
I'm 14.  I think I'm too old for a  
Bar Mitzvah.  Or a bris.

A beat as the Dibbuk assesses him, then pulls out the dagger  
and drops back onto the couch, setting the severed arm on  
fire with a flick of its fingers and cleaning its nails  
meticulously with the blade while it burns. 

DIBBUK  
I'm a Dibbuk.

SAM  
What's that? Some kind of demon?

DIBBUK  
Not so lucky.  More what you'd call  
an evil spirit.  Spent the last few  
hundred years wandering around from  
host to host or locked in that  
curse box...oh, I'm done with that.  
(looks up at Sam, smiles)Which is  
where you come in.

SAM  
I eat bacon too! And my brother  
brings home pizza all the time, I  
had pepperoni just last --

DIBBUK  
Shut up! I'm not going to eat you,  
I'm not even going to hurt you.  
You're my ticket downstairs.   
You're famous down there. 

SAM  
ME?

DIBBUK  
They'll welcome me with open arms  
if I bring them little Sammy  
Winchester.  (leans in close; a  
conspirator's gossipy whisper)But  
y'know what?

SAM  
What?

DIBBUK  
The only way to be more popular at  
a party than bringing a bottle of  
the good stuff is if you bring  
pizza and hot wings too. 

EXT. SCHOOL - FOOTBALL FIELD - A FEW HOURS LATER

Dean is still sitting on the bleachers, waiting  
impatiently.  Casey approaches, still in his flawlessly  
pressed JROTC uniform. 

CASEY  
I don't believe it. You're still  
here.

DEAN  
I'm still here. 

CASEY  
I thought your brother had been  
kidnapped.  Why aren't you out  
putting him on milk cartons?

DEAN  
Because it's not the Care Bears  
that have him, and every time I try  
to go off and cowboy this on my  
own, I feel like something's  
hauling me back here.

Casey is intrigued despite his own better judgment. 

CASEY  
Like...God wants you to come to me  
with this?

DEAN  
Call it that if you want, sure.

Casey considers it a moment, then sits down across from  
Dean, equally fascinated and skeptical. 

CASEY  
You have five minutes.  Explain.

EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET - DAY - TEN MINUTES LATER

Dean's car pulls up and parks across the street and a few  
houses down from the Manzano house.

INT. CAR - CONTINUOUS

CASEY  
I can't believe I'm doing this.

DEAN  
You and me both.

CASEY  
I don't even know you. 

DEAN  
Ok, now listen to me, if I'm going  
to show you --

CASEY  
I mean, you're widely considered a  
delinquent --

DEAN  
You have to promise not to freak  
out or --

CASEY  
\-- you're promiscuous --

DEAN  
Are you even hearing me?

CASEY  
\-- you're practically an atheist...

DEAN  
(snaps his fingers in front of  
Casey's face)  
CAS!

CASEY  
Don't call me that. 

DEAN  
Sure.  Ok.  So if I take you up  
there, you stay friggin' silent.   
No matter what you see.  And I have  
your solemn promise you're not  
going to the cops.  They'll just  
call me crazy and I'm pretty sure a  
lot of people will end up dead.

CASEY  
Yes.  I shouldn't, and I think  
you're out of your mind, but I  
promise...for now.   

DEAN  
Then let's go.

EXT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - PORCH - DAY - MOMENTS LATER

It's trickier in the daylight, but Dean and Casey slip up  
onto the porch from the side through the bushes, easing up  
beneath the same window where Dean saw everything the night  
before.  This time, Dean only glances quickly, confirming  
it, then nods to Casey, who follows...and we cut on his  
reaction to...

INT. HUNTING CABIN - DAY - LATER

A single-room cabin deep in the woods, barely more than a  
shack, decorated straight out of Unibomber Monthly and  
stocked with enough ammo and SPAM to wait out the Mayans.   
Casey sits at the camp table on a folding chair, head  
between his knees, breathing slowly.  Dean pours a shot of  
whiskey and puts it on the table next to him, taking his own  
straight from the bottle. 

DEAN  
Here you go.  Don't argue, just sip  
it slo--

Casey downs the shot perfectly, wiping his mouth and setting  
the glass upside down on the table with a brief, almost smug  
look.

DEAN  
\-- ok then.  Right.

CASEY  
That...thing back there.  That was  
a demon.

DEAN  
I'm thinking yeah. 

CASEY  
God...wants me to help you rescue  
your brother from a demon.

DEAN  
You, uh, sound sorta stoked there. 

CASEY  
No! Not at all!  I mean...maybe.  A  
little.  I mean, of course not!

Dean turns away, trying to hide his grin as he picks up a  
book from the overstuffed shelves and begins to page through  
it. 

DEAN  
Riiight.

CASEY  
What's that?

DEAN  
My Dad's old journal.  I kept it  
when he....

He hesitates, and Casey stands, reaching out to lay a  
sympathetic hand on Dean's shoulder.

CASEY  
I'm sorry.  He's with --

DEAN  
(shrugs it off, a look)  
He's just in Lansing, Cas.  Again.   
Got drunk and shot at the house we  
were born in.  No one hurt, but...

CASEY  
Is that the house where --

DEAN  
No.  That's across town.  See, when  
Sammy was just a baby, our Mom died  
in a fire.  Dad went nuts for a  
while...took us and hit the road,  
said he was looking for some demon  
that had killed her.  Got sort of  
better after about a year and came  
back here.  Did his best.  Didn't  
even remember Mom's death after  
that, but at least he didn't  
believe in demons any more...when  
he was sober.  I mean, he was still  
kinda....

Dean trails off, gestures around the cabin, and Casey nods  
diplomatically.

CASEY  
A survivalist?

DEAN  
Let's go with that.  I forget if  
this place is for nuclear war or  
when Y2K comes. But I'm thinking he  
maybe wasn't all crazy.  Look at  
this...

He hands Casey the journal, pointing to a particular  
section. 

CASEY  
Black eyes.  Like Matt and Ryan. 

DEAN  
Exactly.  So....

Dean motions Casey with him as he crosses the cabin to what  
looks a large, tacky painting of a mountain landscape...that  
swings out to show a very impressive selection of hidden  
weapons. 

DEAN  
You on board with this?

In answer, Casey selects the Beretta 92, checks it, and  
loads a clip with a slick, practiced efficiency that matches  
or maybe surpasses Dean's own. 

CASEY  
I shall fear no evil.

EXT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - BACK YARD - NIGHT - A FEW HOURS  
LATER

Dean and Casey help each other up and over the fence and  
into the back yard, moving with a coordination that is eerie  
for two boys who theoretically have known each other less  
than a day.  They communicate with looks, brief gestures,  
Casey covering Dean as he kneels and pulls out a lockpick  
for the kitchen door....

...which opens, catching them in the bright light from  
inside the house that silhouettes Matt and Ryan on either  
side of the Dibbuk in the open doorway. 

DIBBUK  
(smiling, too friendly)  
Dean Winchester!  And Castiel!   
Hello, boys, we've been expecting  
you. 

END OF ACT TWO

ACT THREE

INT. MADAM MANZANO'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - A FEW MINUTES  
LATER

Dean and Casey are now bound to chairs like Sam, Matt and  
Ryan standing close guard just in case they escape.  They  
clearly put up a struggle; Casey's got a bloody mouth and  
Dean is going to have an amazing shiner by morning.  The  
Dibbuk is gloating, thrilled with itself as it prepares an  
elaborate ritual circle around each of the three boys; an  
ominous collection of chalk lines, herb bundles, candles,  
and little bowls of powder. 

DIBBUK  
All those centuries in the box, I  
really should have been thinking  
bigger.  There I was, swooning over  
how nice it would be to just get  
out, maybe be allowed into hell,  
but if I show up with you three?   
I'll be able to name my reward.   
The famous Winchester brothers...

It runs the dagger almost lovingly down Dean's face before  
slashing his forearm and catching the blood in a bowl of  
powder and adding it to the arrangement around his chair as  
it taunts him. 

DIBBUK  
Dean...the greatest hunter that  
never was.  What were you gonna be  
here? A mechanic, maybe? Baby daddy  
to a couple pieces of trailer trash  
working the Wal-Mart tire and lube?  
The Sword of Michael...

It turns to Casey next, taking his blood from a slash to the  
cheek that it licks with grotesque intimacy. 

DIBBUK  
And Castiel...so utterly human!  
Some called you God, you know.  How  
very, very wrong they were.  In  
fact....(licks her lips, tasting  
his blood again) You could use more  
potassium in your diet.  Don't like  
bananas, do you?

It positions the blood bowl beneath him, then stands back,  
putting the finishing touches in place.  The lights flicker,  
the temperature dropping again as the growling noise that  
heralded its arrival starts again. 

DIBBUK  
Time's linear for you like this,  
isn't it, Castiel?  Just a sad,  
skinny, straight little line  
plodding in one direction, one  
possibility...you don't even know  
who's going to hell first. 

It leans in to Sam, kneeling to caress his face halfway  
between a mother and a lover, brushing his hair back. 

DIBBUK  
Let's let Azazel's precious baby  
choose.  (cuts off Sam's gag, grabs  
his cheeks, makes him look at the  
others)Which one, little prince?  
Who first?

Sam's response is to twist hard in the grip, sinking his  
teeth deep into the palm of its hand.  Blood gushes up, and  
the reaction is shocking.  The Dibbuk is flung across the  
room unconscious to crumple against the far wall, and Sam  
stiffens, seized by a convulsive tremor as his eyes roll  
back in his head and the ropes fall away. 

DEAN  
(still gagged)  
SAM! NO!

Sam stands up, seeming in a trance as he raises his hand  
calmly, smiting first Matt, then Ryan as they attempt to  
escape.  Another flick of his fingers drops Dean's ropes,  
but as he turns to Casey, we see that the Dibbuk has  
recovered and has him at knifepoint.  There is a momentary  
standoff, then the Dibbuk bares its teeth and ignites the  
powder, vanishing along with Casey in a flare of light and  
smoke.

When it passes, Sam and Dean are the only ones remaining  
alive in the bloody wreck of the room.  Dean stares  
fearfully at his brother, approaching like you would a rabid  
dog.

DEAN  
Sammy...Sammy, dude, talk to  
me...it's ok, Sammy... 

Sam raises his hand, and Dean flinches, but then the strange  
look vanishes from Sam's eyes and he's just a terrified  
young boy, staring around the room in incomprehending  
shock. 

SAM  
Dean....

And it doesn't matter that they're both teenagers, his older  
brother scoops him up as if he were five years old, stroking  
his hair and holding him as if he will never let go. 

DEAN  
It's ok, Sammy.  It's gonna be ok.   
I'm here.  I'm here.  I'll always  
be here. 

INT. HUNTING CABIN - THE NEXT MORNING (DAY 4)

Both brothers have cleaned up, Sam's hand bandaged, and he's  
sitting at the table wrapped in a blanket as he tucks into  
an MRE.  Dean is arming himself ridiculously heavily, not  
just with guns and knives, but garlic, a silver bracelet,  
pockets full of road salt, wooden stakes, rosaries, and even  
a four leaf clover and a horseshoe. 

DEAN  
Ok.  I'll be back in an hour, tops.  
Don't --

SAM  
Don't break the salt at the door  
and don't let anyone in, no matter  
what.

DEAN  
Not Dad, not Casey, not the cops,  
not NUNS.  You play not here or --

Sam rolls his eyes and pulls a Desert Eagle out from under  
the blanket.  

SAM  
I know, Dean. 

DEAN  
Don't "I know" me like you didn't  
just get Dibbuk-napped and turn  
into Carrie there, Sammy.  I don't  
feel like taking a lot of chances. 

SAM  
What about you?  What if it comes  
back for you?

DEAN  
(ruffles Sam's hair)  
I'll be cool.  Just gotta get the  
books so we can figure out how to  
get Casey back before the cops  
start getting nosy.  You're  
annoying enough without dealing  
with all that mess.

SAM  
Ok.

DEAN  
See ya, buddy.  

He lingers only a fraction too long at the door before we  
move on to...

INT. LIBRARY - FRONT DESK - LATER

Dean dumps a giant heap of books on the Occult on the desk.   
The Librarian - same one from before - gives Dean a flirty  
raised eyebrow of mock scandal.  

LIBRARIAN  
You know, I don't mean to get in  
your business, but summoning Satan  
is almost never the answer.  

DEAN  
Buddy, you'd be surprised.

INT CAR - LIBRARY PARKING LOT - IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING

Dean puts the books on the passenger seat, locks the door,  
goes to buckle his seatbelt...and spots something between  
the front seats.  He picks it up; it's the cord from Casey's  
JROTC uniform.  He balls it up in his hand, then gasps, eyes  
squeezing shut as he's hit by a powerful wave of --

CLIPS OF DEAN AND CASTIEL FROM SUPERNATURAL

...Edited together almost too rapid-fire to make out, a  
confusing, overwhelming rush of intense images.

CASTIEL (V.O. MISHA COLLINS)  
I'm the one who gripped you tight  
and raised you from Perdition.

INT. CAR - LIBRARY PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

...it's over as quickly as it began, leaving Dean shaken and  
frightened.  He throws the cord out the window, rolling it  
up and re-locking the door.  Twice.  

DEAN  
Screw this.  All of it.  Screw it  
SO HARD.  I am SO DONE with weird.

EXT. LIBRARY PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

Dean burns rubber getting the hell out of there.  

INT. HUNTING CABIN - DAY - A LITTLE WHILE LATER 

By the time he gets back, he shows no sign of what happened  
in the parking lot as he presents the heap of books to his  
brother. 

DEAN  
Here you go.  Everything you never  
wanted to know about crap that goes  
bump in the night. 

SAM  
What about you?

Dean sits across the table, holding up his gun and starting  
to disassemble it for cleaning. 

DEAN  
I'll keep busy. 

SAM  
What if guns don't work on Dibbuk?

DEAN  
Maybe they don't kill it.  I  
dunno.  (continues to field strip  
the M1911)But if I put enough holes  
in it, I'm willing to accept the   
compromise. 

INT. HUNTING CABIN - LATER

The arsenal is cleaned, prepped, and laid out on the table  
across from the small fort of books Sam has constructed.   
Dean himself has fallen asleep on a cot in the corner, and  
Sam hesitates, eyeing the machete in his hand before waking  
him from a distance. 

SAM  
Dean? 

He's awake almost instantly, shaking away the grogginess.

DEAN  
Yeah?  You got something?

SAM  
(nods nervously)  
Oh yeah.

DEAN  
And?

Sam retrieves one of the books from the table; an imposing,  
leather-bound tome already open and bookmarked. 

SAM  
I think I found Castiel.  Well, one  
reference that's definitely the  
right name and another that's a  
Cassiel we have a little more  
about, but not much. 

DEAN  
(completely awake now)  
So what is he?  Another Dibbuk? A  
demon?  Some other brand of happy  
fun time thing?

SAM  
According to this, he's an angel. 

A long beat, Dean staring at the text as if it will just go  
away if he looks at it enough. 

DEAN  
Apparently still not done with the  
weird.

He takes a deep breath, getting up and starting to pace.

DEAN  
Or what if the bitch was lying?  I  
mean, it called you what, child of  
Azaleas? Casey's grown up here.   
He's got parents and stuff.  I'd  
bet you he's been in friggin' Boy  
Scouts and Sunday School since he  
was a fetus.  He's not some Roma  
Downey feathery...assbutt thing. 

SAM  
Assbutt?

DEAN  
Shut up. 

Sam wisely does not push it.  He goes back to the text,  
turning a page to another bookmark. 

SAM  
But get this, Dean...some angels  
and most demons can be summoned  
with the right ritual, and it looks  
like something we could actually  
do.

DEAN  
And we want a demon here on purpose  
because....?

SAM  
They could give us some answers?

DEAN  
Right. Answers I like.  Ok then,  
Doogie Howser...how do we order  
ourselves up a demon?

INT. HELL - TIME IRRELEVANT

A dark, barren space, screams and horrible noises in the  
distance.  The atmosphere is hazy, humid, nasty.  Casey is  
stripped to trousers and undershirt, barefoot, strapped to a  
medieval-looking table-chair-thing of obvious intent, a tray  
of instruments nearby. A harsh spotlight keeps us from  
seeing anything beyond.  He's sweating heavily, beyond  
frightened.  A woman's voice with a familiar cadence comes  
from the darkness. 

MEG (O.C.)  
Well hello, hello.

She steps into the light - it's a new meatsuit but the same  
MEG - and picks up an instrument, stroking it down Casey's  
body without cutting in. 

MEG  
Nice to see you again, Clarence.

INT. HUNTING CABIN - SIMULTANEOUS

The remains of a summoning ritual.  A DEMON is tied to a  
chair in the middle of a Devil's trap.  Dean circling slowly  
as Sam stands further back, holding one of the library books  
and John's journal.  

DEMON  
Who are you?

DEAN  
I'm Dean Winchester.  Apparently,  
I'm famous.

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

MEG  
But maybe you don't recognize me  
with the new outfit.  Last one  
kinda got wrecked. 

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEMON  
You've got the wrong guy, buddy!  
I'm just --

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

CASEY  
\-- an ordinary human! I'm still in  
high school!  I --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEMON  
\-- work in Soul Processing and  
Accounts Unforgivable! You must --

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

CASEY  
\-- have made a mistake! I'm saved!  
I've been baptized! I don't even --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEMON  
\-- know what I'm doing here! I've  
got nothing on what they'd do with  
an angel!

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

MEG  
Oh, I'm hurt, Clarence.  This  
again? You don't remember?  Even a  
little bit?  How about I --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
(Flexing his fist ominously.  
The knuckles of his glove have  
been dipped in glue and rock  
salt)  
\-- give you a couple ideas?  Get  
the ball rolling....

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

Meg is so closely draped over Casey it's impossible to know  
if she's about to kiss him or do something with the jagged  
blade in her hand that strokes the line of his jaw. 

CASEY  
Are you going to --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEMON  
(incredulous)  
Try to torture me? 

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

MEG  
What's the fun in that if you don't  
even know --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
\-- what the deal is.  See, my  
brother and I, we've had a lousy  
weekend, and there's names going  
around like --

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

CASEY  
\-- it called me Castiel. 

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
\-- who is apparently some kind of  
angel.  Care to elaborate?

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

MEG  
You weren't just any angel.  You're  
the best thing since Lucifer.  You  
tore existence itself to  
pieces...all for a human you --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
\-- want to tell me you don't even  
remember?

Dean picks up another handful of rock salt, packing more  
onto the knuckles of the glove. 

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

Meg's caressing gestures with the blade stop abruptly, her  
eyes go cold and flash black. 

MEG  
I think --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

Dean's fist flies towards the camera as if we're seeing the  
Demon's POV.  Sam cringes.

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

Tight close on Casey's face as he reacts, screaming in pain.

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

Dean's fist pulls back, blood on the knuckles. 

INT. HELL - CONTINUOUS

Meg smiles.  There's blood on her blade. 

MEG  
\-- we should --

INT. HUNTING CABIN - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
\-- talk.

END ACT THREE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ACT FOUR

INT. HUNTING CABIN - DAY - LATER

The demon is battered, bloody, and unconscious.  Dean looks  
tired but triumphant as he steps back out of the Demon Trap,  
stripping off the gloves and throwing them aside. 

DEAN  
Ok, Sammy, let's pull the plug on  
this hell toaster.

SAM  
(reading from book)  
Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus  
spiritus, omnis satanica  
potestas....

Sam stops, frowning at his hand and flexing his fingers  
tentatively. 

DEAN  
Something wrong?

SAM  
(detached, dreamy)  
I think there's a better way,  
Dean.  I think I can....

He starts to stretch out his hand towards the demon, but  
Dean grabs his wrist and yanks it down.

DEAN  
NO.  Just read the damned book,  
Sam.  Let's not get fancy.

SAM  
But Dean....

Dean grabs the book out of Sam's hands, the Latin flowing a  
little less easily but still good enough to get the job  
done.

DEAN  
...omnis incursio infernalis  
adversarii, omnis legio, omnis  
congratio, et secta diabolica --

The demon dissolves into smoke, and Dean drops the book  
harshly on the table and wheels on Sam, who now looks fully  
"there", just rattled. 

DEAN  
What in God's name were you  
thinking?

SAM  
I don't know.  I just...I thought  
"I can do this.  I can make him go  
if I just WANT it enough and --"

DEAN  
Sammy, we don't have the first clue  
what that bitch's blood did to  
you.  We sure as hell don't want to  
play around with it to see what  
happens. 

SAM  
I'm sorry, Dean.

DEAN  
I've already got maybe 24 hours  
before the cops find OUR blood all  
mixed up in the mess at that house,  
and it looks like our only hope is  
me trying to find a "Grace"...which  
according to Linda Blair is a  
sparkly blue light bulb that could  
be anywhere in the midwest! I don't  
need this! 

SAM  
(quietly)  
I always make everything harder on  
you.

This stops Dean completely, and he looks ashamed of his  
outburst, taking Sam by both shoulders and making eye  
contact. 

DEAN  
Don't start that crap.  Hey, when  
have I ever had to give you grief  
about eating your veggies, huh?

SAM  
(smiles)  
You're the one going to die of high  
cholesterol by thirty. 

DEAN  
It's a good way to go.  (a beat, he  
gets his jacket off the chair) But  
you gotta stay safe, little  
brother.  Promise me. 

SAM  
You too, big brother. 

A beat, a look exchanged, Dean leaves, stepping carefully  
over the salt line as SEARCHIN' by THE COASTERS begins to  
play and we follow him to hunt for the Grace.... 

INT. CHURCH #1

A Catholic church, grand and ornate.  Dean tries to search  
the reliquary.  He gets chased out by the priest...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Dean draws an X through the location in black Sharpie

INT. CHURCH #2

A Pentacostal Church, hands waving and people weeping.  Dean  
gets thrown out again.

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X.

INT. SYNAGOGUE

Dean being escorted out the door by a Rabbi...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X.

INT. CHURCH #3

...and a Mennonite...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X.

INT. MOSQUE

...an Imam...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X. They're getting faster now, both the eviction  
clips and the X-marking.

INT. CHURCH #4

A well-tanned televangelist type with a headset...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X.

INT. NEW AGE STORE

...a dreadlocked hippie...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X. Faster and faster.

EXT. PLAYGROUND

A small child chasing him from the sandbox.

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X.

EXT. CLOSED CHURCH

The doors are chained, a sign on the door...

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Another X.

INT. YOGA CLASS

Thrown out while still ogling butt of instructor evicting  
him.

CLOSE ON MAP - LAWRENCE, KANSAS

Yet another X.

EXT ABANDONED LOT - ALMOST NIGHTFALL

The music fades out, the sequence ending as Dean hauls  
himself wearily over the fence and out of the lot, marking  
his map yet again and shoving it into his back pocket.  He  
leans back against the fence, runs a hand through his hair.   
He's running out of options and knows it.  Across the  
street, he spots a gas station, checks the change in his  
pockets...

EXT. GAS STATION PARKING LOT - NIGHT - A LITTLE BIT LATER

Dean is sitting on the curb finishing a gas station hot dog,  
contemplating the map spread on his knee.  The nearby pay  
phone rings.  He ignores it.  It rings again.  He finishes  
his hot dog, licks his fingers, starts folding the map to  
leave.  It rings again.  A voice echoes in his head, scaring  
the crap out of him.

MISSOURI MOSELEY (V.O.)  
Dean Winchester, you pick up that  
phone this minute!

He obeys. 

INT. MISSOURI MOSELEY'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

A warm, homey-looking place with bundles of herbs hanging  
over the stove and pie-making from home-canned jars of  
filling in progress.  MISSOURI MOSELEY - as close as  
possible to the SPN original - is in an apron, flour to her  
elbows, holding the phone in the crook of her neck to not  
get it messy. 

MISSOURI MOSELEY  
About time.  That other business  
gives me migranes.

EXT. GAS STATION PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
Who is this?

MISSOURI MOSELEY (V.O.)  
Missouri Moseley.  I'm a friend of  
your Daddy. 

DEAN  
(recognizes her now, relieved)  
Oh yeah! You're the --

INT. MISSOURI MOSELEY'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

MISSOURI MOSELEY  
Psychic.  Goodness, you have grown  
up, haven't you?  Last time we  
talked, you still sang soprano.

EXT. GAS STATION PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
I'm eighteen.

INT. MISSOURI MOSELEY'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

MISSOURI MOSELEY  
Bet you grew up handsome, too.   
Haven't thought of you boys in  
years, but I got a message for you  
just now.

DEAN (V.O.)  
From who?

MISSOURI MOSELEY  
The Universe, God, that's up to  
you, boy...but it knows you're  
poking around for an angel's Grace,  
and I'm supposed to --

EXT. GAS STATION PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

MISSOURI MOSELEY (V.O.)  
\-- tell you to follow what's right  
in front of your heart. 

Dean makes a face. 

DEAN  
Is that...it?

MISSOURI MOSELEY (V.O.)  
That's it.  I'm sorry it isn't  
more.

DEAN  
(too disappointed to be  
disappointed)  
No, that's ok.  Uh...thanks for the  
tipoff?

INT. MISSOURI MOSELEY'S KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

MISSOURI MOSELEY  
Oh, don't blow snow, boy.  Just  
take care of yourself and that  
brother of yours and say hi to your  
Daddy. 

EXT. GAS STATION PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

DEAN  
Will do.  Thanks again.

He hangs up the phone, defeated, then notices something in  
the reflection on the metal.  He looks down.  His amulet is  
glowing faintly blue.  Excited and yet uncertain, he takes  
it off and holds it in his hand, sweeping it in a wide  
circle.  It glows clearly brighter in one direction, and he  
does little victory dance despite himself, his energy wholly  
renewed. 

DEAN  
Missouri, you're a genius!

Dean follows the glow to --

EXT. SALVAGE YARD - MINUTES LATER

Weaving his way through the abandoned hulks of vehicles to a  
battered, rusted out late 60's Chevy Impala that has been  
scrapped for parts.  He has barely begun to dig beneath it  
when the Grace bursts free in an enormous flare of light.

INT. HUNTING CABIN - LATER THAT NIGHT

Another ritual has been prepared, this one with angelic  
sigils, some of them in blood.  Dean has a fresh bandage on  
his forearm, but he looks dangerously eager to settle the  
score.  He lights a ring of oil on the floor, then a bowl of  
powder.  CASEY appears inside it, but he's  
half-dead...barely conscious, battered and covered in blood,  
on his knees and being held upright by his hair by the  
smiling Dibbuk, who looks at the circle of flames in  
amusement.

DIBBUK  
Olive oil, Dean?  Store brand?

DEAN  
(defensively)  
I had it blessed!

DIBBUK  
You're cute.  Annoying, but  
cute.(gestures, putting the oil out  
and letting Casey drop to a heap on  
the floor, moaning) I didn't think  
you'd want to see me so soon.

DEAN  
I didn't.  We were trying to get  
our friend back.

DIBBUK  
Your 'friend?'  You knew him what,  
a day?  But he and I were having a  
special moment, and I couldn't bear  
for it to end so soon.  Besides...I  
forgot a few things last time I was  
here.

It beckons, and Dean is yanked helplessly forward.  It grabs  
his collar, pulling him almost to a kiss and doing something  
that makes grey veins appear on his face, his color fading  
ashen as he gasps in pain. 

DIBBUK  
You should come join us.  I've got  
a real kink for threesomes.

SAM  
Let my brother go.

The Dibbuk looks up, the smile vanishing from its face as it  
sees Sam approaching, one hand outstretched threateningly,  
the other holding Dean's blood-covered gloves, his mouth  
smeared in demon's blood. 

SAM  
Now. 

The Dibbuk does as it's told, ignoring Dean as he collapses  
and giving a predatory smile to Sam. 

DIBBUK  
Oh, you are a remarkable thing.   
The Boy with the Demon Blood.   
Azazel's Chosen.  Lucifer's  
Vessel...you have so much more  
potential than you even realize. 

SAM  
I'm also on honor role and debate  
team. 

DIBBUK  
Come with me.  I'll even let Dean  
live.  You can have so much, Sam.   
You're being wasted in this life,  
you could be....

DEAN  
Why don't you just shut up?

The Dibbuk looks down, but it's too late.  Dean has hung the  
Grace-filled amulet around Casey's neck, and although Dean  
himself is still badly weakened by whatever the Dibbuk did  
to him and can't even sit up, Casey - now Castiel - is  
rising to his feet with strength fully renewed and then  
some, eyes and skin beginning to glow.  As he shakes  
himself, the last of the injuries disappear and the shadows  
of wings unfurl across the wall behind him.

CASTIEL  
(his voice has deepened,  
roughened)  
I can arrange that. (to Sam and  
Dean)Close your eyes! 

The Dibbuk barely manages a scream of terror before Castiel  
extends his hand and the screen fills with white light. 

END OF ACT FOUR

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
ACT FIVE

INT. DEAN AND SAM'S APARTMENT - SAM'S BEDROOM - LATER THAT  
NIGHT

Castiel knots the tie of his newly-restored JROTC uniform in  
the mirror hanging on the back of Sam's closet door.  The  
brothers, also healed but looking very uncertain, are  
sitting on the end of the bed, watching him. 

DEAN  
You...uh...you got that backwards.   
Here....

When it comes to taking care of people, Dean can't quite  
help himself.  He stands up, awkwardly adjusting Castiel's  
tie the right way.

CASTIEL  
Thank you. 

DEAN  
Angel of the Lord and you can't  
figure out a necktie?

CASTIEL  
They're...surprisingly  
complicated. 

An uncomfortable beat, no one can quite look at each other.

SAM  
So now what?  You go back to your  
Mom and Dad and we're supposed to  
pretend nothing happened? 

CASTIEL  
No.  (resolute)Now I set things  
right; we go back to the world as  
it should have been.

DEAN  
I still don't understand. 

SAM  
He didn't get Back to the Future,  
either.

DEAN  
(defensive)  
The first one, I got.  The second  
one didn't make any sense and the  
third was just BAD.

CASTIEL  
It's all right, Dean.  I'm the one  
at fault here.  16 years from now,  
I face a difficult choice...and  
unfortunately, I took the coward's  
route. 

SAM  
You're an angel.  What could YOU be  
scared of?

CASTIEL  
I had to choose between my home in  
Heaven and...my home with the two  
of you.

The brothers exchange an incredulous look. 

DEAN AND SAM  
(in unison)  
US?!

CASTIEL  
We go through a great deal  
together. (a small, tentative smile  
to Dean)I quite like future you.

DEAN  
Is that why I felt this...this bond  
with you?  Why I trusted you?

CASTIEL  
Very likely. (a beat, not letting  
himself avoid the topic) I thought  
if I went back and eased your  
father's grief and obsession with  
the Yellow-eyed Demon, you might  
escape the Hunter's life and I  
would still have over 20 years to  
stop the Apocalypse another way.

DEAN  
What...?!

SAM  
(intrigued)  
Don't ask.  (then, to Castiel)Go  
on....

CASTIEL  
I had only partially altered his  
memories when I was stopped by  
Lachesis, one of the sisters of  
Fate.  She was angry at my  
interference; she stripped me of my  
Grace and sent me to live out a  
life as one of the humans I had  
favored so much.

SAM  
Can you still stop the Apocalypse  
now that you know what you are,  
though?

CASTIEL  
Yes, you will.

Castiel reaches out towards them, one with each hand, two  
fingers extended, but Dean dodges, pulling Sam away.

 

DEAN  
Cas, you don't have to do this! Sam  
and I...we'll be fine, man.  If  
there's stuff going down in the  
future, great! Now we know it's  
coming! We'll be ready!

CASTIEL  
No, Dean.  The point of Free Will  
isn't finding loopholes when it's  
difficult.

Sam pulls away from Dean, closing his eyes and bracing  
himself.

SAM  
Ok.  Do it.  

DEAN  
Sam, wait! We can --

Sam opens his eyes, giving a dimpled, lopsided grin as he  
puts an arm around Dean's much broader shoulders. 

SAM  
C'mon, Dean...you heard him.  We  
stop the Apocalypse! We grow up  
awesome.  Don't be scared. 

Dean nods, returning the one-armed hug. 

DEAN  
Me?  Nah.  Never.  Bring it on,  
bitch.

SAM  
Jerk. 

Castiel's fingers touch the brothers' foreheads in unison,  
the screen flares white again...

EXT. PARKING LOT

SUPER TITLE: Conway Springs, Kansas, 2013

A familiar black Impala is waiting.  Two men in suits emerge  
from the building - DEAN WINCHESTER and SAM WINCHESTER, as  
adults, as Hunters, as we know them.  It's a clip from  
FREAKS AND GEEKS, with one difference...as the car pulls  
away, we hear the whoosh of wings. 

BLACKOUT


End file.
